


Deleted Scenes; Resident Evil 4: Unfinished Business

by little_calico



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 20:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_calico/pseuds/little_calico
Summary: By the time Leon Kennedy and Jack Krauser meet in a Spanish town under the control of Las Plagas it's been almost a decade stince Krauser has been pronounced dead. Needless to say that they have some issues to work out and the past is never truly out of reach...





	Deleted Scenes; Resident Evil 4: Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, everyone! Suzume here. If you don’t know me, I’m the second writer for Guilt Pleasure’s monthly e-magazine (authoring the novels about David Krause in San Francisco, his life running parallel to the events of ITW.) If you do know me then you’ll know that my love for Det. Krause burns deep… but what you might not know is that before there was David, there was just me and Neko and our shared love of Resident Evil. In fact, abusing Leon Scott Kennedy was how we met. So in celebration of the E3 announcement that Resident Evil 2 is getting a beautiful reboot (!) I want to share some of the stories that I’ve written about everyone’s favorite rookie cop.
> 
> This story in particular is one of my favorites. It takes place during the events of Resident Evil 4; Leon and his ex-partner, Jack Krauser, face off for the first time since parting ways years before. When I wrote this story I remember Neko giving me tips about writing an Army character… it was the first time, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Maybe Leon was practice for David’s cop-life!
> 
> I’m not the best at reaching out via social media, but thought this might be a nice gift for the readers who both know me already and those wondering who the hell that Suzume is in the ebook shelf. In the future we might decide to publish these sorts of random fun shorts in the e-mag on top of the normal content… so if you enjoy it, let me know!
> 
> This is part 1 of 2. Soon I’ll be posting the second part on A03-- I’ll let the comm know when it goes up. In the meantime I hope you like it. <3

   Leon walked out onto the meshed metal landing. Instinct made him roll his weight to cut down on the sound of his footsteps. It was strange enough that there was no one in this large room; especially when the one before it had been crawling with Ganados. He absently touched his arm where a cross bolt had grazed him. It wasn’t enough to merit the use of first aid, but it sure as hell stung.

   Not unlike other parts of his body.

   When Leon had woken on that stone floor – body still desperately exhausted, aching, and cold – for a moment his mind was a blank. And then a cough that had racked his body and colored small pieces of the floor red reminded him where he was and what was happening. Most of the pain he’d endured was long gone; it was like waking from a dream. You forget pain after it’s over; it’s a hard thing to hold onto. But there was a burn between his legs that made him wish for the other pain back, no matter how bad it had been. Because this soreness was a reminder of things he wanted desperately to forget. In that stone room Leon had grit his teeth and focused on his burning cheeks as he’d dropped his pants to use some of the medical supplies he’d collected.

   He knew he hadn’t been out long. It was still night, and checking out the large ceiling windows he could still see the almost full moon hanging just past zenith. He’d put a guess on it of less than an hour. Which meant Saddler had that much of a head-start. Too much. And so Leon had taken two of the pills that Luis had died to give him and continued on, trying to put the incident behind him with the room.

   Leon felt eyes on the back of his neck – he’d developed a knack for that. He drew his knife slowly, unobtrusively. With a habit he’d somehow developed, he thumbed the snake etched into the blade near the hilt as he pulled the weapon. A small, almost unconscious comfort before he turned, pivoting in a tight circle to his other foot. But there was nothing. Just empty room behind him.

   The sound of metal groaning redirected Leon’s eyes upwards. A blur of black and steel assaulted his vision and he jumped backward; too slow. The sharp sting of pain bloomed across his cheek. Rolling into a crouch he steadied himself and wiped a backhand across his face. He didn’t need to look to know that there was new blood there.

   “Been a long time, comrade.”

   That voice, like gravel in a silken bag. Leon’s eyes were pulled upward to follow his attacker as the man stood. He hadn’t heard that voice in years but it wasn’t something he would forget. It was a trigger and unlike memories of pain, this stuck around. Leon stood, but his knife – while in hand – stayed down. He didn’t know how much the past – and Krauser’s ‘death’ – had changed things between them. Leon, for his part, was numbed from overload.

   The face before him was older, scarred. But there was no mistaking the man. “Krauser.”

_A pair of pale blue eyes looked up at him in response to the name._

_“They say that you can fieldstrip a 16 blindfolded in 18 seconds.” That had been the mutter that caught Leon’s ear in the first place. To break down an M-16 in 30 seconds was quite a boast; but in 18? He thought it was a load of crap, and he’d told the two that had sat across from him at the mess hall table just that. One only smiled and jerked a thumb down the table toward the muscled blonde sitting in the midst of a small entourage. ‘You ask him, then,’ the man had said. His smile was a challenge._

   Haven’t even been here a day, and already making friends, _Leon thought to himself as he stood there, facing the blonde in question._

_Then again, he didn’t really care to make friends with these people. His instructors wouldn’t be pleased to hear that, after all why else were they all cut off from their lives other than for the sake of group unity? No personal items. No off-base excursions. No individuality._

_The group around the blonde seemed to be holding its collective breath. Krauser too a moment – too long, in Leon’s opinion. He was just fishing for a reaction. Instantly he disliked this man._

_“I think that might be pushing it,” came that voice. It dug into his nerves. A crooked smile. “I think that 20 seconds sounds a little more realistic.” Laughter began, but Leon didn’t join in. He just listened to the man add, “more modest, too. Don’t you think?” When Krauser started laughing with the rest of the men around him, Leon got the distinct impression that instead of laughing with them, the blonde was laughing at him._

A small laugh. “I died in a crash two years ago. Is that what they told you?”

   Leon made himself keep his eyes on the man before him. He stepped to the side as Krauser did and they started a dance, circling, matching knives drawn and waiting to taste blood. Leon didn’t know what to feel. He hated Krauser; he’d been relieved to hear of the man’s death. But when he’d looked up a moment ago to find those familiar pale eyes he’d thought gone… there had been something. Not quite relief, but something akin to it. Maybe it wasn’t Krauser he hated, but the fact that they were bound by bonds that would never be broken.

   The real question was why the hell was Krauser here?

   “You’re the one who kidnapped Ashley.” There is was. Clear, easy. Who better to get past military security than a man who’d been trained by the military? Not something he’d put past Krauser either, deferring from his county for personal interest. Leon might have been forced into service as blackmail, but as far as he was concerned Ashley was an innocent who should have been left out of other people’s power games.

   Just like Sherry.

   There was a grim smile from Krauser, one side of his mouth curling slower than the other as if that new scar had damaged nerves. Leon itched to know how it happened; he was sure that Krauser had been furious – the man he’d known had always been so vain. “You catch on quick. That’s expected.” Krauser spun the knife around in his hand on a finger as he walked, idly. Leon kept pace in the other direction, slowing as the man turned his back to him.” After all, both you and I know where we come from.” Despite the bulk he carried, Krauser moved fast. A slash – warning, testing – that Leon dodged and returned with one of his own. Krauser moved away easily and they paused, feet apart, tensed. Leon was on guard now, knife raised to chest.

   Krauser had never been that fast.

 

    _Their feet kicked up dust that created a halo of grime around their bodies and the bodies of the men that were gathered about them to form a ring. Krauser had taken off his green military-issue shirt before the sweat had even darkened it. Leon still had his on, even though it looked more black now than green. They circled each other to the taunts and cries of their onlookers._

_In just over a week and a half more than fifty percent of their group had dropped out. From the original 49 men who had enlisted in the special ops training 23 remained. Those who were left would be slower to go, now. But the instructors had smiled when they said that the average graduated class was sized at ten._

_Leon, as he saw it, had no choice. He couldn’t leave because he was tired and sore. He couldn’t not make the cut for failure to know what to do when a man on his team was injured. So for less than personal reasons he pushed himself harder. When he wanted nothing more than to lie down and go to sleep, he’d do a hundred sit-ups first. Most of those in his group – some of who he’d even been sad to see go – tended to, after the first few days, just smile and shake their heads when they’d leave for the mess hall and Leon would stay in the classroom._

_Not Krauser._

_The two had, from that first day, somehow become rivals. Jack Krauser – the muscled elitist who didn’t have to work to pass the trials flawlessly and Leon Kennedy, the civilian cop who pushed himself harder than anyone else. Krauser hadn’t yet been forced to confirm the rumored 20 second fieldstrip and Leon was starting rumors of his own just by being himself. They worked side by side with a teamwork that the others envied and even they couldn’t explain, though it did nothing to close the gap between them._

_Krauser made a passing swipe with a large arm and Leon ducked it easily. A bruising of egos during a break had led to this. Leon had never been good at holding his tongue around idiocy. And so – no weapons, no help, fight until a give or unconsciousness. Leon, who was more or less a stickler for the rules imposed upon them, surprised the unit by accepting the challenge. They must have looked suspicious, all 23 of them tramping out over the dried earth to find a secluded back of a building that did nothing to shadow the afternoon sun. No one had stopped them._

_Leon ducked another punch and pivoted to the side as Krauser followed through with a shoulder that – when it didn’t connect – sent him stumbling past the smaller man. He turned as the ring around them laughed. Over the last ten minutes Krauser seemed less and less inclined to laugh along with them. They were both getting close to mistakes that would cost them. Leon had a pretty purple bruise coming up on his jaw – the blood in the dirt at their feet was his. But he was pretty sure his own fist to Krauser’s gut had hurt the man; every now and then a large hand would absently move to the spot. A few other blows had been landed from each side, all of them glancing. There was a pattern emerging that was clear. Krauser - the strength - was attacking while Leon - the speed - was dodging. It was tiring them both out._

_Leon blinked sweat from his eyes. Krauser was lagging and his moves were getting easier to read. But Leon wasn’t far behind. He needed to end this before it got harder to draw each burning breath, or before his heart was all that he could hear. He watched Krauser circle and he obliged by doing the same. The bigger man was studying him just as he was being studied. Krauser touched his stomach again and that was when Leon realized he was using his dominant hand to do it. It made a connection in his mind. There was one thing that Krauser didn’t do as effortlessly as everything else – use his non-dominant hand._

_They circled and Leon waited. He dodged a feign and almost got himself knocked out for it. Hitting the dirt he rolled away and the circling started again. Then his chance came. When Krauser raised his right hand to settle on that sensitive spot Leon lunged in to the left, drawing the attention of the man’s weak side to block a pulled punch that was only made to put him closer to the bigger man. Leon’s weight shifted easily, fast, and then his right knee was coming up into the already damaged area that was now unprotected as Krauser tried to compensate for his weak side automatically. The man’s breath was knocked from his lungs and he stumbled forward, only to be helped to his knees a moment later as Leon pushed his tired body to respond and spun into a flat kick that caught Krauser across the back and dug the heel of his boot into the man’s side._

_And still he moved, because he knew Krauser wouldn’t give so easily. Turning, Leon dropped behind the big man and looped an arm around his throat. Using his other arm as leverage, he threatened to cut off Krauser’s breath. Blunt fingernails scraped at his arms and hands groped at his back to little avail._

_Leon’s feet left the ground as Krauser stood. He didn’t know how the man could do so – not now, tired, lugging both their weights. His toes dragged over the ground as Krauser stumbled forward. The ring of men parted for them and Leon realized where the man was headed. His arm squeezed harder at the neck it held. “Give!” Leon hissed into the man’s ear. He thought he heard a laugh before Krauser turned and slammed him against the rough wall of the building. Leon lost his breath but kept a hold on Krauser. Twice more he was slammed back; the last time his head hitting the wall and his world reeled. But then Krauser was dropping to his hands and knees._

_“I give.” Leon didn’t even think he’d heard right, the words were so small under the calls and shouts from their audience. “I give!” Krauser bellowed, and everything fell silent for a moment._

_Leon released the man and heard Krauser sucking in deep breaths as he moved away. He swayed to the side and was supported by one of his fellow men amidst the claps to his back. There were guys trying to help Krauser to his feet, but the man wouldn’t allow it. Leon had a feeling that their good-natured taunts cut the Krauser further than they realized._

_Leon had won, but it didn’t really feel that way. He’d had to humiliate Krauser in the process and because of that, Leon knew that if they hadn’t been enemies before, they were now. The congratulations of his peers sounded hollow._

_Later in the classroom the Sergeant saw the bruise and asked Leon what had happened. His straight-faced reply of ‘fell out of bed, Sir,’ had inspired the same prompt to Krauser, whose neck was red raw. The larger man only repeated Leon’s line and so the instructor had assigned the two to a private room. Afterward at dinner his team laughed about it._

_Krauser had sat on the fringes of the group, silent._

“What do you want?” Leon asked. His muscles hadn’t really recovered from their recent strain and despite the can of food he’d found and had a few mouthfuls of (because who cared now if the food was infected? so was he), his energy was down.

   Krauser made a small noise of amusement that pissed Leon off. But then the man was lunging in again – just like him, pressing the action – with a horizontal slash that led into a swipe from the groin upward. Leon dodged both, just a bare miss on the second, and then they both took their respective distances once again. “The sample Saddler developed,” Krauser said, “that’s all.”

   If there was one thing about Krauser that had always infuriated Leon it was that he never seemed to get worked up. Unless he was losing he was always smug, always condescending, always so apathetic to anyone but himself. “Leave Ashley out of this!” Leon barked with more emotion than he’d intended.

   But Krauser just kept moving, pale eyes on Leon. “Oh, I need her to buy Saddler’s trust in me. Like you, I’m American.”

   There was a scathing remark to give in return to that, but it was bitten back as a barrel was kicked at him. Knowing only its emptiness meant it could be handled as such, Leon braced himself enough to bat it to the side. It clattered heavily into the opposite corner, but had hardly cleared Leon’s body before Krauser jumped at him. Leon’s knife came up instinctively to block a lunge that grated metal together and was strong enough to upset his weight backward. He jumped as Krauser’s knife disengaged his and used the momentum to flip over and land on his feet instead of falling. He heard Krauser land behind him even as he turned.

   “You got her involved just for that?” Leon snapped out. Krauser didn’t care who he stepped on to get to the top. For the first time, Leon pressed the attack, running at the larger man. Enraged for Ashley’s sake. After a long slide of steel on steel, Krauser parried all his blows and kept on equal footing as they went back and forth. Leon feigned in, dropping the knife in mid-air to spin and catch it with his other hand to finish the cut. Krauser was unprepared for the abrupt shift in angles and Leon felt his knife score resistance.

   Krauser pulled back and Leon eyed the damage – a long cut across Krauser’s upper chest. Blood welled and obscured the actual wound, but based on feeling alone Leon would guess that it was unfortunately shallow. He wasn’t give a chance to think about it more; Krauser had only laughed before lunging in again.

   Leon caught the wrist of the blonde’s knife hand and held it suspended for just a moment before dropping himself under it, twisting in an attempt to get Krauser to drop the knife. The man did, but into his other hand. The small shock at the use of his left hand gave Krauser the moment he needed to stab in and Leon could only block, holding both of the man’s wrists now. They stood face to face, struggling for the upper hand.

 

     _”I won’t tolerate being made a fool of,” hissed the voice that Leon had come to loathe. He was cowed against the slick shower wall, piercingly cold after the heat of the water. His hands were pinned against the tile by the wrists. Krauser was close enough that Leon could see his eyelashes clump together with water._

_“You do that well enough without me helping,” Leon said. Just because he was pinned to the wall didn’t mean he’d hold his tongue. And there was no way in hell that he was backing down from his man. “Jack.”_

_The sneer he was given was sharp with the angular features of the face that made it. “We’ll never be on a first name basis, Kennedy. Keep that in mind. And watch your fucking tongue, comrade, unless you want it to be mine.”_

_“Does that mean you’re going to kiss me?” Leon said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, no less light that the pounding of the falling water behind them. But he wondered even as he said it if it was only mocking. There was a grain of truth in every joke; hadn’t someone told him that?_

_The attraction that he’d begun to feel toward this man was no more explainable then their ability to work together almost without words._

_Krauser’s lean toward him made Leon catch his breath more so than the malicious smile that curled the man’s lips. “Thought you looked too pretty to be anything but a fag,” he said. That kind of baiting wouldn’t work. Krauser’s hips were too close to Leon’s to make comments like that, his voice just a little too low._

_They were in the common showers – the room they’d been assigned to had nothing in the way of a bathroom. Krauser had a reputation to upkeep – why else would he be threatening Leon here instead of in the privacy of their room? This was about his image as much as it was about his pride._

_“Thought you looked too ugly to be anything but an ape,” Leon purred back. It was infantile, but it bothered Krauser. He could see it. The man’s smile dropped. “Let go of me.” It was an order – one he didn’t know if Krauser would obey. There was a silent moment of narrowed eyes and Leon’s wrist flared in pain as Krauser’s grip tightened before slackening, and then sliding away all together._

With a jerk Leon was wrenched around as his tired muscles gave in to Krauser’s strength. A kick to the back forced a grunt of pain past his lips and he fell forward out of Krauser’s grip, hitting the floor on his hands and knees. His knife clattered out of his hand and out of reach as he dropped onto his back. Leon arched, half in pain, half in an attempt at backward movement.

   Krauser towered over him. “All for Umbrella’s sake.”

   That froze Leon, right down to the blood in his veins. The word choked out, “Umbrella?” Umbrella, who had started everything. Umbrella, who had made the world a nightmare and taken Krauser from him just when… Just when they might have been able to make a difference. Together.

   His voice seemed to wake Krauser from the daze of thought he’d slipped into. He blinked away whatever memories clung to the moment. “Almost let it slip,” he said, voice absent as he looked back down. Leon wasn’t stupid enough to imagine that he could tempt Krauser with their shared past, but it was the absence of any emotion at all that chilled him. What had they done to him?

   “Die, comrade.”

   Leon’s eyes widened as Krauser jumped, the words no real warning of the shockingly fast lunge. He caught at the large hands that brought the wicked blade downward and his fingernails tore skin. The muscles in Krauser’s arms bunched as his motion was arrested. Leon’s teeth bared and his shoulders screamed with the effort it took to keep the killing edge from his neck.

   It couldn’t end here. Not like this.


End file.
